Brothers
by ThisIsTheGreatestUsername
Summary: Stuck in a game where death in-game meant death in real life? There was no other group of guys Klein would rather share the experience with. Fuurinkazan One-Shot.


**Brothers**

The first evening of SAO came without much fanfare, and the streets of the Town of Beginnings lay in silence.

It was a silence born of things that were lacking. Things such as a wind that would have rustled the trees, set shops' signs creaking, and sweep down the road like a soft, gentle moan. Or a light rain pitter-pattering against the districts of tiled roofs and stone pavements, dripping off edges and puddling in recesses, sipping down into the drains to be carried away to who knows where. Things such as people walking down the street, engaging with conversation and laughter, filling the silence with the clattering and clamouring, the hustling and bustling of what you would expect from an average day in a city. But alas there was none of these this evening, and it was their absence and more that allowed the silence to reign.

Where are the people, you ask?

Well, some of them—not many—were out in the fields, already some distance away from the town, kindling small bonfires to keep their camp warm during the night, planning their push onwards where no one else yet dared, but yet respectful of the silence. Others sat huddled in taverns, drinking with quiet expressions, avoiding any serious discussion of recent circumstances, and in doing so added to the silence. And then there were those who had chosen to sleep early, locked behind in the safety of their inn rooms, forgoing dinner and hoping that everything that had happened was just a dream. They would wake up often throughout the night though in cold sweats and desperate fear, realizing that escaping from this nightmare was not so simple. They too added to the silence.

Thus, that was how the first evening of SAO passed. In fear, anxiety, and despair. In silence.

Except for one group of idiots…

* * *

"What. The. Fuck. Dale, you actually chugged the whole barrel," Klein said incredulously, both hands raised in disbelief.

Dale wiped his lips, clutched his round belly, and then let out one hell of a burp. The stench of salivated ale punched through the air and sent the bar maidens running back to the kitchens in disgust. "Oh, I needed that," the big guy said, and burped again. "It's easier than it looks. Now pay up. All of you!"

"Whose genius idea was this bet?" Issin growled.

"I was damn sure he was gonna puke halfway!" said Dynamm. He and Issin set down the barrel which they had just helped pour into Dale's mouth and put down a gold coin each for their end of the bet.

Klein flipped his coin to Dale, who caught it easily. "We underestimated his powers."

"Pleasure doing business with you boys," Dale said. "Next round's on me."

"With our money," Issin said, frowning.

Dale grinned. "Exactly." He headed towards the bar. The barkeeper dropped the cup he was polishing as he saw the fearsome giant approach, stammering his lines.

Aside from them, the rest of the tavern was empty. There had been other players when they first arrived, but they soon left the second they bought a barrel for Dale. The band of musicians that were playing had been frightened away as well.

"He drank about forty gallons and doesn't look a step off," Kunimittz mused. He and Harry sat by a separate table, with drinks of their own; amusement sparkled in his normally serious eyes. "Looks like that proves it. Bad news: alcohol doesn't work in this world."

"Great! Just kill me now," Dynamm exclaimed.

Klein sank back down to his chair. "Well, there goes our night. No more 'getting wasted till our mothers disown us'. Any other suggestions?"

"Poker?"

"Hell nah, not with you," Issin said, jabbing a finger into Dynamm's scrawny ribs. Everyone knew that playing poker with Dynamm was akin to just piling all your money on the table for him. In fact, it was preferable that way because then you wouldn't need to go through the sham of drawing and shuffling the cards.

"Shogi?" Klein said, just throwing out ideas.

"Something _fun, _Ryou," Kunimittz said.

"We could talk about our feelings?" suggested Harry.

There was a pause.

Then they all burst out laughing. They were lads, they don't do that sort of thing.

"So, we can't get drunk, and the only fun things to do _requires_ getting drunk. Sorry, I'm at a loss, guys," said Klein.

Just then, Dale returned carrying all six of their drinks on a wooden tray. "I'm back, boys. Hope you all didn't miss me."

"Damn, now we can't talk shit about him," said Dynamm.

"Dale, how are you feeling right now?" Kunimittz asked, raising a hand as if to steady the big guy.

Dale gave him a look. "Fine. I'm not a lightweight like Harry, y'know. Water off a duck's back."

"Are you sure you don't feel anything, not even a little tipsy?" pressed Dynamm.

"Definitely not," Dale insisted. "In fact, I can go for another barrel if you want to bet agaiiiiiiinnnghhh…"

Without warning, Dale slumped forward and before anyone could react, fell facedown onto the floor, knocking several chairs and tables on his way down. The tray dropped out his hands and crashed, the drinks splashing in all different directions.

Klein was instantly by his friend, crouching by his side. "Dale!"

"Yo! Look at his face!" Issin pointed out.

Dale's pudgy face had gone red like a cooked lobster, green puke spewing out of his open mouth. Excitement rose within Klein and he looked to the rest of his friends, each of them knowing exactly what this meant.

"He's drunk," Klein said softly.

"**FUCK YEAH!"**

* * *

"I reckon that the NerveGear somehow stimulates the brain's production of dopamine, which causes us to feel excited, and GABA, which is a inhibitory neurotransmitter, and it is both of these that causes us to become intoxicated," Kunimittz droned, looking every bit like a medical lecturer. "That doesn't explain why Dale got Asian flush in-game though. That's caused by—"

"No one cares! Now pick your card," Issin jeered, on tune with everyone's thought. Tipsy Kunimittz was know-it-all Kunimittz.

The game was Ring of Fire and the rules were simple enough. Cards were fanned face down in a ring at the centre of the table. Each player took turns picking a card and had to perform an action (drink) corresponding to the card's number. There was only one penalty and that is if you took a card that 'breaks' the ring then you have to down your drink.

Kunimittz shrugged and took a card.

Klein leaned in to get a better look. Was it his imagination or did the room have more soft edges to it now?

"Waterfall," said Kunimittz, showing an Ace in his hand.

A collective groan.

"Which way?" Klein asked.

Kunimittz gave Harry a glance and grinned. "Anti-clockwise."

That meant that each player, who all sat in a circle, starts drinking at the same time as the person to their left. No one could stop drinking until the player before them stops. This placed Harry in an extremely dangerous spot as he sat next to Dale who, after passing out briefly earlier, had gotten up and immediately downed two more tankards.

"You'll kill him!" Dynamm shouted, standing and pointing an accusatory finger.

"Clockwise then."

"Nice knowing you, Harry." Dynamm sat back down his seat on the other side of Dale.

Harry looked up to Dale, his smile that of a man who'd accepted his fate. "Go easy on me, big guy."

Dale put a thick, clammy hand on his shoulder and slurred, "I'll let your mother know you died a good death."

The horror on Harry's face was ignored as Kunimittz lifted his tankard to his lips, to which everyone else mimicked. The moment he started drinking, Issin did the same. For about ten seconds, Kunimittz kept drinking before he put his tankard down. Issin went on for another ten seconds longer. Dynamm held out for only a second longer, quickly passing the torch to Dale…

Harry dropped to the floor, spewing everything which he'd drank in the last hour, Dale thumping his back in aid, everyone else roaring with laughter.

"That was cruel," Klein said to Kunimittz, though unable to hide a grin of his own.

"I didn't see you offering to switch seats with him," Kunimittz responded. "And oh yeah, don't think you can get out of that waterfall. Drink!"

Like wolves on a wounded prey, the others pounced on him as well. "Drink!"

"Wait, a sec! Technically, Harry stopped drinking, so I don't need to," Klein said, gesturing to said player who had stopped puking and was supporting himself up onto his chair.

Issin glared at him, then huffed. "Fine. Pick your card."

Klein let out a sigh of relief and looked at his available choices. There were twelve cards remaining on the table; most of them were in danger of breaking the ring. He chose the one which would not break the ring, hoping and praying to whatever god or gods out there that it was not a…

King.

He felt heart sank.

"Ayyyyyyy!" everyone shouted.

There was only one way of ending Ring of Fire and that is to pick the last King. In a standard fifty-two cards deck, there are four Kings. So, during the game whenever someone picked the first three Kings, they get to fill a cup—which was set in the centre of the ring—with whatever they wanted, while the sad and greatly unfortunate person who picked the last King has to drink that cup. For this particular playthrough of the game however, the group had procured a tankard the size of a large trophy and the first three Kings had gone to the absolute worst people for it: Dynamm, Issin, and Dale.

"There's justice in this world after all," Kunimittz said, grinning from ear to ear. He picked up the giant tankard with both hands and handed it to Klein.

The mixture was green in colour and had a smell that rotted your insides. Simply looking at it made Klein want to add to Harry's pile of puke.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!"

"What's in it again?" he groaned. "Looks like garbage bag juice."

"Just some ale," Dynamm said innocently.

"With a bit of _wine_," added Dale.

"And also olive oil," said Issin.

"_Olive oil!_" Klein felt his throat bulged.

"Don't forget guava juice," Dynamm chimed.

"Seasoned with salt and pepper."

"And some of Dale's puke from earlier. Shame that we couldn't add some of Harry's too." Issin shrugged.

"You might as well give me poison!" Klein exclaimed.

"Well technically, this will be more of a laxative than actual poison," Kunimittz said.

Harry gave Klein a sympathetic look—a look that showed complete understanding of the utter torture capable from Dale, Dynamm and Issin. He patted him in the arm. "Go on, Ryou. Enough staring, more drinking."

"Chug! Chug! Chug!"

Klein felt everyone's eyes on him, and he knew that there was no getting out of this. _Fuck. Of all the cards I could have picked. _

He brought the tankard to his lips, the smell instantly assaulting his nose and bringing tears to his eyes. _Just do it in one go, and it'll all be over. _He tipped the tankard into his mouth.

An assortment of taste hit him at once. None of them pleasant; all of them nasty to the deepest definition of absolute disgust. He had not even gotten a quarter through when his gag reflex sent it all back out. He shot forward, knocking over the table with all the cards and drinks. He bit down his lips to keep it in but there was no stopping it and he ended up spitting out his puke, spraying onto his friends to their sheer horror. If he had the luxury, he would've enjoyed their reactions but no sooner had he spewed, more bile raced up his throat and this time he just let it all out, retching on the floor without any regard.

It took several minutes before he felt he had control over his body again and was left panting heavily. There was still that horrible, horrible taste in his mouth. "Water," he begged.

A cup was held out before him and he drank from it. That proved to be a mistake as the water simply washed whatever was left of the dirty drink down his throat, triggering his gag reflex again.

Everyone was howling with laughter, banging on tables.

"It's the olive oil," Klein heard Issin say.

"Urghh, he spat some into my mouth!" Dynamm cried, gagging himself.

"Don't laugh with your mouth open that big then, you monkey," Kunimittz said.

Klein felt himself helped up onto his seat. Cards and now empty tankards laid everywhere throughout the floor, soaked in alcohol, water, and vomit. The table was broken, one of its legs splintered beyond repaid. He glanced over at the barkeeper, seeing the horrified expression on his face at the damage done to his fine establishment. It was a surprise how they weren't kicked out yet.

"Issin, Dynamm, Dale," he said in a low voice, eyeing them as they continued helplessly laughing. "The next time we play this, I'm making sure you're drinking my piss."

"Make sure not to pick the last King then," said Dale, settling down long enough. His co-conspirators hi-fived him at that, resuming their hyena-like laughs. There was nothing scarier in this world than when those three arrive on the same page.

A petite bar maiden interrupted just then, carrying a fresh tray of drinks. "Six Greydales Mead." She placed them on a side table and left quickly without another word.

"Mead?" Issin raised an eyebrow. "Who ordered this round? Who the hell drinks mead?"

"I did," Harry said. "Try it, I think you'll be surprised."

Eager to get the terrible taste out of his mouth, Klein grabbed a tankard and took a mouthful. His eyes widened. "This is Soju!"

Harry grinned at him. "Exactly. I was wondering why some drinks had weird names, so I tried it out. Turns out, they've been disguising drinks with different names!"

"You're a fucking wizard, Harry!" Dynamm shouted in English, leaping to his feet.

"I'm a wot?"

Immediately, the rest of the group jumped up and ran to the bar, spending the next hour trying out the tavern's entire collection. It was when they discovered which drink was Sake did their night truly began.

* * *

Hours passed as the group decided to take their fun to other taverns for variety's sake, indulging in quantities that would have made Dionysus blush while also drawing many sharp and unwelcomed looks from other players. They screamed, shouted, bellowed, sang, being every bit the obnoxious arseholes they were told they were. In their wake, furniture laid broken, barkeepers and wenches left traumatised, the silence of the night all but scattered. And as their tab grew, they only got worst.

Issin, in particular, became paranoid that every person they encounter meant them harm and would jump in front of his friends the second someone took even a step in their direction, as if he expected a gun to be drawn. It didn't help that most players still wore their starting gear and looked ready to battle on a moment's notice. Therefore, it went without saying that the tall, thin guy rubbed a lot of people the wrong way.

"What the fuck is wrong with you guys?" yelled one player, who to Klein's eyes was just a bright smear against the light of the inn.

Harry, ever the group's diplomat, stepped forward, ready to defuse the tension. "I'm sorry but my friend here is super protective of us, and he must have taken offense to your face."

"_What?_"

"Oh sorry, I mean you just look like someone who people needs to take care around. Especially those with children."

Kunimittz, Dynamm, and Dale burst out laughing. Klein couldn't help it as well, doubling over.

That seemed to infuriate the man enough for him to throw a barstool at them and they quickly bolted out of the inn.

"You guys think all this is a joke? We're all stuck in the same fucking situation and you guys can't find anything better to do?" Klein heard him shouting from behind them.

"Told you he was trouble," said Issin, and everyone else laughed.

They ran and ran, even after it was clear that they were not being chased, with only the streetlamps to light their way. There was a coolness in the air that spoke of autumn and a silence that hung everywhere else. Eventually, they came into a small, open garden by one of the city's canals. Here, a large oak tree dominated the centre, while smaller, budding plants surround it in worship.

Seeing no point in going any further, Klein flopped down onto the trimmed grass, feeling heavy all of the sudden. Dynamm and Issin did the same, while Kunimittz settled his back against the trunk of the heavy oak. Harry and Dale went and sat by the canal bank, taking off their boots and dipping their feet into the moonlit waters. They were all flushed red from the alcohol and running.

Kunimittz chuckled. "It's like we're nineteen again."

"You got that right," said Issin.

"Brings back memories," Dale said.

Klein grinned. _It sure does. _

Then a sudden panic seized him. "Fuck! I got work tomorrow! I need to go!" He tried jumping to his feet but failed, collapsing clumsily back to the ground to the others' laughter.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, you idiot," Dynamm said.

"I don't work in some part-time, minimum wage job, you NEET," Klein shot back.

After approximately a few tries, he managed to swipe down his menu. The translucent screen scrolled out of thin air, and he furiously swipe down…

_Oh. That's right._

The greyed logout option stared back at him, and he slumped back down to the grass.

"Say, are we going to die?" he asked.

"No, we're not," Kunimittz said, and the confidence in his tone was enough to raise Klein's spirit slightly. "There's zero chance of alcohol poisoning because no alcoholic content is actually entering our bloodstream right now."

Klein felt himself deflate. "Not what I meant, but good to know."

"Ah," Kunimittz said and when he didn't continue, Klein glanced up to find the good-looking man with his eyes closed. It was through many years of knowing each other that Klein knew that his friend was in deep thought rather than fast asleep.

"Woah, look at the stars," Harry said, pointing up to the sky like a mesmerized child. And sitting next to Dale, who was almost twice his size, cemented that image.

Klein crossed his hands behind his head, gazing up as well.

Like scattered moondust across an endless arch of void-black, they sparkled and shimmered in all their heavenly glory, birthstone-blue in some places, polar-white in others, and silver in the ones furthest. It reminded Klein of an old story of how stars were the beacons of lost souls, guiding the living to a fate different from theirs. But looking at them now, they seemed to be moving but at the same fixed in place, dancing and yet resting. There was no making sense in them, except that they were beautiful, beyond the span of human comprehension. Or that he was just really, really drunk.

"It's the same when we went camping in Hakone," Issin reminded, to numerous assents. "Damn, how long was that ago?"

Klein counted in his head amidst the alcoholic haze. "Seven years ago. Senior trip."

Dale whistled. "Time flies."

"Truly," Harry agreed.

"And we're all still single," Dynamm said.

From where he laid, Issin gave him a kick in the head, eliciting a loud yelp. "Hard to get a girl when I still hang around with you."

"Oh sure, blame me." Klein felt rather than saw Dynamm rolling his eyes. "Classic Issin, just blame everything on good, old Dynamm."

"It's true though," said Dale. "I've been telling you for the past six years, shave that pedo-stache. You make hoes want to put on chastity belts."

"You don't get to say anything when you're every bit as single as me," Dynamm responded touchily, feeling his moustache. "Not to mention the biggest cockblocker there is."

"We're not all single though," Harry interjected hurriedly. "Kunimi's got a girlfriend, doesn't he?"

They all looked to Kunimittz, who opened his eyes at the mention of his name. He gave a smile and nodded.

Dynamm grunted. "Of course I wasn't talking about him. He betrayed us and left us behind to fend for ourselves."

"Don't worry, Dynamm, someday, an old spinster will take interest and make you her little bitch," said Kunimittz.

That got all of them laughing again. Harry snorted, then laughed more because he snorted. A silence settled once they calmed down, and they continued watching the stars.

"Hey Harry," Klein said, scattering the silence away. "How's things going with that girl you fancy?"

"Fancy, hah! Try obsessed," injected Issin.

"Things are going alright with Mitsuha, I guess," Harry said rather nervously. "I mean we're really close friends now. Closer than I've ever been with a girl. And—"

"Wait, you mean you still haven't made your move on her?" Klein interrupted. "Why not?"

"Well, she hasn't shown any obvious signs."

"She talks with you for hours on the phone, and she practically can't keep her hands off you every time I see you two together," Kunimittz pointed out.

"But—"

"Listen," Klein said, his tone suddenly serious.

"Yeah, listen to Mr. Calvin Klein there, he's got _loads _of experience," said Dynamm, leaving the others snickering.

Klein ignored the comment. "You just got to make the first move. It doesn't matter if she hasn't shown any signs, because I'm telling you women leaves signs that are impossible for us men to find. But that's okay though, it's all a game and you win by being bold." He held up two hands, making them talk to each other. "'Oh hi there, nice seeing you here.' 'Hello, I was just running some errands, killing time really.' 'That's neat, so am I. Want to grab some lunch together?'"

"Can we skip to the part where you end up crying into your pillow for weeks?" asked Harry.

_Ooooo _and _Aaaaaah's _came out of everyone's mouths and Klein felt his face go redder than the alcohol ever made him.

"Here, have some water to ice that burn," Dale said, performing a bicycle kick to splash canal water onto him.

"Anyway, it's not like it matters anymore," Harry said in a soft voice. "We're stuck here."

Almost immediately, everyone quietened down, their eyes casting downwards. Like an open vacuum, the silence swept in instantly to fill the void. Even the stars seemed to darken.

"Just go ask her out when you get out then," muttered Klein.

He'd not meant for it to be heard, but his soft whisper cut through the silence like scythe.

"Will she wait though?" Harry's reply came after a short pause.

"We'll just have to see, don't we?"

"I see," Harry said softly, then more confidently, "I guess we will."

That brought smiles all around the group and they all relaxed. Kunimittz began a soft hum, not so much as to fill the gap in conversation but a hum done in the company of people you were comfortable with. Dale picked up the hum, followed soon by Harry and Dynamm. Lastly, Issin caved in as well and joined in.

Still all grins, Klein closed his eyes and forced himself to think. Some dutiful fraction of his consciousness swam its way up to the surface of the alcoholic ocean in his mind and fought to stay afloat. As he pieced together the events of the night, ragged piece by ragged piece, he realized one thing and opened his eyes, propping himself up on his elbow to look around.

Kunimittz, Dale, Dynamm, Issin, and Harry. His friends. His _brothers_.

As long they were together, there was not one place, circumstance, or situation that would ever, ever bring an end to the fun they enjoy in each other's company.

_By the stars, I swear I will make sure that everyone of us make it the end of this death game. Together._

They spent the late hours humming, then singing of whatever song that came to mind, and of course more talking about random topics—old stories, new stories, families, love life, sports, hobbies. They had known each other since middle school until now into early adulthood, but there were still new aspects yet to discover of each other, for they were still young and stupid—more so stupid—and shared a bond that will always be a part of them.

Tomorrow, however, they would begin their push into a world that means to see them dead. A world which holds danger in the seen and unseen. A world that would claim thousands of lives before its completion. A world created by a mad man named Kayaba Akihiko. And in time, they would see things, things that one could live without seeing, and they would learn how to move like the wind, be silent like the forest, attack like fire, and have fortitude like the mountain.

But for tonight, they were just hanging out in the Town of Beginnings, drunk beyond description and pissing off whoever they came into contact with. Then, one by one, they all reached their limit and drifted off to sweet, sweet sleep, knowing deep in their hearts that they were brothers and will never grow old or die.

The silence descended as soon as the last of them dozed off.

But it was not long before it was broken by the sound of six idiots snoring like pigs.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Soooo, this isn't the first time I've tried to write a Fuurinkazan short story. About a year ago, I tried writing one and upon reading it, I realized what a complete and utter shit it was. The characterization was weak and boring and not at all what I wanted to portray the Fuurinkazan as. The plot was stupid as well. So with that in mind, I decided to start again and write this one shot. The end result is something more concise and yet impactful. The quality, I hope, is much better now and it's something I can be proud of. But who knows, I might look back on this some time in the future like I did with the last fic and think that it's completely garbage.

Anyway, with that said, thank you for reading. Please do review, feel free to voice your thoughts and not hold back. I'll really appreciate it if you do.


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